


No Words

by WernickesArea



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Confessions, M/M, Miscommunication, help yuta please
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 01:04:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14989382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WernickesArea/pseuds/WernickesArea
Summary: I'm out of words, babeNo way to explainHow come Nakamoto Yuta realizes things so late?





	No Words

**Author's Note:**

> It's like I am unable to write something that isn't inherently sad af... I'm sorry.  
> Doyoung and Yuta deserve all of the happiness, but I'm a mess and I only know how to be angsty.  
> I swear this story isn't even _that_ sad, only overly dramatic.  
>  Do enjoy though!!! This is me trying to keep my DoYu Nation fed.
> 
> Inspirations: [Shinee](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7dGwk5-QMpc) , [Erik Hassle](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3O2qp-uKWlI)

The campus was eerily quiet during that time of the day, the last rays of sun disappearing behind the horizon, casting long shadows on the asphalt. Yuta opened the doors to the library, looking left and right in search of someone. A good portion of the tables were empty, no one really bothering to still be there so early in the semester. 

But Yuta knew that who he was looking for was there. He strut down the wide room, passing fast by the endless rows of books, when he spotted him. His hair was the color of a stormy night, and Yuta couldn’t stop wondering how much it matched the personality of its owner so well.

He sneaked silently towards the person, trying to contain his giggles at best as he could.

“Boo!”

“FOR FUCK’S—”

Doyoung ripped his earphones out of his ears, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. Yuta burst into peals of laughter, holding his stomach at how hilarious Doyoung’s expression looked. His eyes were so wide that they seemed to threaten to fall out his face. 

“Are you for real?!” Doyoung whisper-shouted, a hand on his chest, right above where his heart is. 

“Oh my god, your face!” Yuta was now crouching on the floor, wiping away at tears that had collected at the corner of his eyes. 

“You’re an asshole,” Doyoung huffed. 

“Sorry, sorry.” Yuta whispered, collecting himself. They were still in a library after all, despite how the two of them were pretty much the only ones in there. There was the librarian too of course, but whoever was on duty at the moment looked to be asleep at the main desk when Yuta passed by them earlier.

“I came to pick you up.” 

“Oh, nice to know that you hadn't stopped by to actually kill me,” Doyoung shot back. 

“I’m a kind soul like that,” Yuta smiled. He moved to close Doyoung’s books up, shoving them in his backpack and handing it to him all in record speed.

“Now, let’s go.” 

Doyoung sighed, taking his sweet time in wrapping his earphones around his phone and putting it in his pocket.

“Hurry!” Yuta whined, stomping his feet like a kid.

“Why, are we in a rush?” 

Doyoung was a sneaky little bitch, and that was a fact. He knew how much Yuta needed to be at Jaehyun’s as soon as they could, so that he could call dibs on the PS4 joystick before Johnny hogged it for a good part of game night. 

As they walked out the library, Yuta pulling on Doyoung’s sleeve to make him speed up, he realized that his friend wasn’t only a little bitch. He was also the pettiest person in town. As Yuta shoved the car keys’ in the ignition, making the car rumble to life, Doyoung lazily sat down on the passenger seat, the car door wide open. 

“Can you close that?” Yuta hurried, tapping his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel.

“Uh? What was that?” Doyoung furrowed his brows looking left and right. 

“Close the door!” 

Scratch that. Doyoung was the pettiest person _on planet Earth_. 

He smirked at Yuta, crossing his arms over his chest. “I must be suffering from hearing loss because _someone_ was very loud, _very_ close to my ears.”

Yuta groaned. “Oh, please. I was not loud.”

“What?” 

“I was not loud.”

“Uh?” 

“God, I’m sorry! Can we _please_ go now?” Yuta didn’t give in often, but he was a desperate man and he was on a mission. And that mission required him to get to unlimited Fortnite rounds before Johnny snatched that chance from him. 

Doyoung laughed, giving in and closing the car door. 

Yuta’s breath caught for a moment, the slightest hitch right in his throat. Little wrinkles sat right under Doyoung’s eyes, right where his smile reached every time he was genuinely happy or entertained by something. 

“Weren’t we in a rush?” Doyoung raised his brows, staring at Yuta’s hand poised on the ignition. 

“We _are_.”

“Let’s go, then.” 

Yuta tried to salvage the situation, reaching out for the radio and tinkering around with stations before setting on one. He could feel the tips of his ears warming up under Doyoung’s scrutinizing gaze, but he chose to purposely avoid it, making sure to keep his eyes on the road.

Eventually, the car moved out of its parking spot, starting its short journey towards Jaehyun’s home.

* * *

It was incredible. How the human language could convey such articulate concepts, such life changing truths. It could build up someone’s entire self, have them skip stones made of reassurances and support. Yet, it could also sink them down, a devastating shipwreck that left no survivors.

During his lifetime, Yuta had experienced both those extremes. He went from having praises sung to him, pats of approval on his head, to having vicious insults spat at his face like venom. 

One would think that such experience would serve him as a lesson. At 22, he should be holding the key that gave every syllable of the human language the true meaning that it should have possessed since ancient times. 

But life wasn't some philosophy book about hyperboles and ideals. In reality, at 22 Yuta was but an idiot, struggling just as much as he did when he was a child, not knowing how to tell his mom that he had gotten an F. 

And he was nothing if getting worse as time went by. He had gotten past the stages of his tongue twisting in his own mouth (of course), but his ability to convey his feelings deteriorated like copper left out on a rainy day. 

It was with his family first, his need to hide away and divert uncomfortable topics whenever they came up. Then, it was with his friends, who had to beg him to let things out, to stop holding back. Yuta had tried to unwind the coil around his soul, the one that he could feel every so often constricting him, warning him that he needed to _shut up_ , _swallow it down_. 

Things got worse when Kim Doyoung entered the picture. 

It was supposed to be an acquaintanceship, the typical _friend of a friend_ kind of deal. Taeyong had insisted to have him join their little circle of friends, and no one was against it. Johnny and Jaehyun had been nothing if welcoming with Doyoung, accepting his smart-ass comments and overly-nagging personality with nothing but warmth. He would take part to their little outings after school, always worrying whether they’d make it home on time for dinner. 

Yuta had been on his best behaviour for the first… approximately half-hour of knowing Doyoung . He wasn’t entirely sure. He just remembers how his mouth – that had stayed closed until then – had opened up to comment on Doyoung’s shirt choice. It was the most idiotic thing ever, honestly. His comment, not the shirt. Yuta couldn’t even remember _what_ exactly about his shirt had ticked him off. 

Still, it was a short circuit. Yuta’s poor words-processing skills kicked into play, and Doyoung kicked back. It was an anniversary of sort, their first banter. Yuta looked back at those days with a light feeling, his guts telling him that that was how it had started. 

The truth though, was that no one knew how Yuta’s hopeless crush on Doyoung had come to be, but it was – as Taeyong had described it – _annoyingly expected, and also kind of cute_. It took Yuta more than a year and a thorough intervention from his three best friends before he even came to terms with it. 

Somehow, he was scared that if he started being honest with himself, he would have to face some sort of astral change, a grim awakening. But as if the universe wanted to mock him, nothing had changed. Doyoung still looked the same, his gummy smiles imprinting into the back of Yuta’s eyelids, and Yuta still found him annoying on most occasions. 

Was it disappointing? Maybe.

Perhaps because Yuta hoped that by letting that gate open, he would find an answer as to why he couldn't convey his feelings like any other human seemed to be able to do. 

No answer came to him though. Absolutely nothing, aside from the now tangible feelings for Doyoung and the daily reminder that they were growing.

On a rainy day, Taeyong had side-hugged Yuta, a sympathetic look in his eyes. 

_“Try not to hurt yourself.”_

* * *

“Welcome to my humble abode!”

“Jaehyun, we come here every weekend.”

Jaehyun laughed, opening his door wide for his friends to enter. Doyoung scoffed at him, giving him a quick hug, before making a beeline for the bags of chips already lined up on the coffee table. Yuta watched on as Doyoung opened one of the XL sized bags, munching loudly on salty potatoes and greeting Taeyong who had just popped out of the kitchen with a full mouth. 

“Hey, man,” Jaehyun patted Yuta on the back. He had a small, knowing smile on his face, but everyone knew that they had to follow the silent agreement of _No Meddling, For Fuck’s Sake_ so he kept his mouth shut. The two of them walked into the living room, Yuta scanning the place.

“So… is Johnny here or—” 

“Johnny has yet to arrive, he said that he will run later than usual,” Jaehyun said. 

Yuta fist pumped the air, cheering loudly. He took his sweet time fetching the PS4 joysticks and starting up a new game. 

“That game is turning you straight,” Doyoung grimaced. Taeyong laughed as Yuta shrugged, too busy selecting his character to give a proper reply. 

Eventually, Doyoung and Taeyong started conversing about their day, tuning out Yuta’s screams and cuss words directed at the screen every time that the words _You Died_ appeared. As time went by though, everyone in the room seemed to be having a good time except for the host himself. Jaehyun was sitting at the far end of the couch, elbows leaning on his knees as one of his legs bounced up and down. He was busy typing away at his phone, a deep frown distorting his soft features. 

“Is everything alright?”

Taeyong was the first one to speak out, his voice failing to break Jaehyun’s rapt attention. Even Yuta had paused his game, his body twisted to the side from where he was sitting on the carpeted floor so that he could look at his friend. It wasn’t rare, to catch Jaehyun absorbed in his own world. Sometimes he seemed to tap out of the moment and disappear somewhere else, into his own mind, lost in his thoughts. 

Lately it had become worse. His peaceful stare had turned sour, a tinge of anxiousness dancing in the grooves of his muscles pulled tight under his skin. Taeyong had been the first one to notice, his empathetic self always so attuned with his friends’ feelings. After that, it was Doyoung, who had started to fuss over the fact that they should talk to Jaehyun, see if they could be of any help. 

The last one to notice had been Yuta, despite him being the first – and to that day only – person to know the reason behind such behaviour. 

It had happened one afternoon, as Yuta caught sight of Jaehyun at the local mini market. The boy was glaring quite frighteningly at two different brands of maple syrup in his hands, his mouth pulled down in a scowl.

Yuta had taken pity on him, offered him an ice cream and the two of them had sat down on a bench to eat it. The summer heat was slowly weaning off, the warmer days giving space to a cooler wind. 

“Do you ever feel like you can’t quite make sense of things?” 

Jaehyun’s voice had a fragile quality to it, like a willow tree that was losing its leaves. 

“Yeah, like, every day.” Yuta suckled on his popsicle, making a loud popping sound. 

Jaehyun nodded, forlornly watching his own ice cream slowly melt and drip onto the asphalt. 

“I’m sorry, man. I didn’t want to get all philosophical and sad on you.” Jaehyun said, throwing a weak smile at Yuta.

The latter shook his head, licking at the last piece of his ice-cold treat, the taste of the wooden stick making his tongue itch. 

“We’re all allowed to get sad and philosophical sometimes, don’t worry.” 

A very gentle breeze made the leaves on a couple of nearby trees rustle, the distant sound of a police siren filling the air.

“Thank you…” Jaehyun mumbled. 

Yuta pursued his lips, twirling the stick in his mouth. He waited, because he could feel that something much bigger was coming. A revelation of sort perhaps. 

Jaehyun was still admiring his melting ice cream when he turned to stare at Yuta.

“Okay, so. Hypothetically speaking. What if I was in love with someone.”

Yuta nodded, his guts twisting. He was the worst when it came to facing his friends’ problems. He wasn't apt at administering advices nor at giving words of comfort. However, Yuta steered himself. He wanted to try.

“What if— and what if this person that i was _hypothetically_ in love with, was planning on moving away.” 

“Does this person know that you’re in love with them? Hypothetically.”

Jaehyun shook his head no, throwing the melted ice cream into the trashcan closest to the bench. 

“Is there a reason why?” Yuta prodded.

“Not really. It just never came up, I guess.” 

Yuta hummed. “You do know that I’m the least recommended person you should get hypothetical love advice from, right?” 

Jaehyun laughed at that, a tinkling sound that made Yuta believe that he was at least doing something right.

“Don’t sell yourself short like that!”

“I’m just taking a step ahead here. I don’t take responsibility over what I might suggest to you.” 

“You don’t need to solve anything. I just wanted to get this off my chest.” Jaehyun replied.

Something about that didn’t sit right with Yuta. If it was Doyoung who Jaehyun was talking to, the former would have already whipped out an eight steps plan with backups too. Doyoung was smart like that. He knew how to view a problem from outside and twist it in his deft fingers like a Rubik’s cube. Yuta could barely get a grip of his own emotions to even try and distance himself like that from a situation. That’s why Doyoung had been such a strong pillar to him. The rare times that Yuta had managed to open up to him about whatever was haunting him, Doyoung had offered him so much. In his eyes it was almost unfair. What could Yuta even offer back? 

Yuta swallowed, clearing his voice.

“When is this hypothetical person going to leave?” He asked.

“Probably this winter break, but the date has yet to be decided.” 

“Well, if this person is hypothetically going to leave soon, then you should hypothetically confess.”

Jaehyun grimaced, so Yuta elaborated further.

“Look, what are you even going to lose? If they say that they don’t feel the same, they will be leaving soon anyway.” 

“What if he hates me, though?”

Yuta’s eyebrows shot up at the unintentional slip, but he chose not to mention it.

“Would he be able to hate you for something like that?”

Jaehyun wondered about his for some time, a small smile forming on his lips.

“No… No, he wouldn’t.”

Yuta clapped, smiling at Jaehyun. 

“There! Time to make an hypothetical confession now, my friend!” 

“I guess,” Jaehyun sighed, scratching his head. 

Yuta nodded firmly, feeling like he had done something right for once. He stood up, throwing the gnawed popsicle stick away. 

“Ummm, Yuta?”

“Mh?”

“Can you get me another ice cream?”

Yuta had whined, joking about how he had barely enough spare change for a bus ticket, but he got Jaehyun another ice cream nonetheless.

Seeing the same boy, who had looked so hopeful on that day after their talk, frowning at his phone and exuding such nervous energy made Yuta wonder if he had really done something right that day. Had he made matters worse? 

“Jaehyun.” Doyoung’s voice was firm, yet it had a gentle edge to it. 

Jaehyun snapped his head upwards, jerking like he had been electrocuted. His phone dropped to the ground, the fall cushioned by the soft rug under their feet.

“Are you alright?” Taeyong tried again, shuffling closer to their friend.

“Yeah, sure. Uh— Gotta go unlock the door for Johnny.” 

And just like that, Jaehyun sprung to his feet and disappeared into the entrance hall. 

Silence fell over the room, Taeyong and Doyoung exchanging looks that meant that they were planning on what to do to make their friend talk about whatever was bothering him.

Suddenly, Johnny’s baritone voice broke the moment, having the three of them look up towards their late-comer friend.

“Hey guys, sorry I took so long to join!” Johnny strode into the room, going to bump fists with everyone.

“Damn, what’s with the funeral faces?” He asked, plopping down on the couch next to Doyoung. The latter sighed, shaking his head at Johnny. 

“Someone’s been acting stubborn,” he said, throwing a subtle glance at Jaehyun, who diverted his stare somewhere else. A tinge of red was coloring the tip of his ears. He wasn’t looking at his phone either, the fog in his eyes having cleared up substantially. 

“Come on friends, gather round, papa Johnny has a tale for you all.” 

“A tale?” Yuta asked, raising his brows. 

“A piece of information,” Johnny corrected.

“That’s not what a tale is,” Doyoung pointed out. Jaehyun and Taeyong laughed at the way Johnny rolled his eyes and shoved a handful of chips in Doyoung’s open mouth. 

“Shush, let me finish.” He straightened his back, clearing his voice. “Your number-one-best-mate here got accepted into a special program in Canada.” 

Gasps and exclamations of surprise erupted all of a sudden. Johnny’s smile was one of the brightest Yuta had ever seen on him, his eyes shining with pride. 

“Oh my God! For real?!” Taeyong piped up, clapping his hands in excitement. 

“You can bet your sweet cheeks.” 

Yuta laughed, patting Johnny on the knee. “Johnny Suh, you smart beanstalk!”

“Is this still part of your music degree?” Doyoung asked. 

“Yeah, Mr. Choi was the one who recommended it to me.” 

From there, Johnny started to talk about the program he was going to take part in, excitedly describing each particular with so much joy in his voice that it was hard to keep a smile off your own face. Midway through what had turned into a full blown exposition of what the campus in Canada could offer him, Yuta’s stare wandered off to the side. Jaehyun was still sitting at the far end of the couch, but this time he had a small smile on his face, the previous anxiousness nowhere to be found on the softened out edges of his features. It had been replaced with some kind of veiled sadness though, his hands clasped tight together. 

Yuta furrowed his brows. He wondered why Jaehyun had been acting so strange, a question sitting on the tip of his tongue, when a phone ringing interrupted his thoughts. 

“Oh, sorry guys, I need to pick this up.” Taeyong got up from the sofa, making his way into the kitchen to take the call. 

Johnny kept on talking, gesturing wildly as he explained something that Yuta had forgotten to keep track of. Doyoung was still nodding, trying to show their friend that he was interested in what he was going on about, yet, his eyes jumped to Jaehyun every so often. 

He must have had caught onto Jaehyun’s strange behaviour too.

“What do you think, Jaehyun?” Doyoung interrupted Johnny, fully turning towards the boy who was sitting so far away from them. He seemed like he wanted to erase his presence, to make himself invisible. 

“It’s really great. Yeah.” Jaehyun didn’t even bother to look them in the eyes for longer than a split second.

Doyoung looked unimpressed, annoyance showing in the way he pursued his lips. Yuta feared for what was about to come. That look on Doyoung never promised anything good. 

“Okay, I’m back. I hope that I didn’t miss anything important!” Taeyong hurried back from the kitchen, sitting back in his place. 

“Don’t worry, I’m sure that at this point not even Johnny knows what he’s talking about,” Yuta joked, an attempt at dispersing the tense atmosphere.

Johnny reached out to put Yuta in a chokehold, the other three laughing at the way he couldn’t disentangle himself from it. Curse Johnny and his meaty biceps. 

The night moved on without any other major hiccup, everyone agreeing to order some pizzas to share. Johnny and Yuta ended up engrossed in multiple Fortnite rounds, the others whining that they should stop and pop in a movie instead. 

Taeyong’s phone went off for the second time that night. 

“Guys, I need to go,” he sighed. “Catch you all tomorrow.” 

Everyone wished him a good night, Johnny waving at him with a slice of pizza dripping oil from his hand. Taeyong scolded him, telling him not to mess up Jaehyun’s carpet, before he closed the main door behind him.

Doyoung yawned, stretching his limbs as far as they could go. 

“We should leave too,” he pierced Yuta with a pointed look. 

“Wait, I still have to beat Johnny on—” 

In a flash, Doyoung had gotten to his feet and grabbed a handful of Yuta’s shirt, dragging him away from the console. 

“We _really_ should leave now.” Doyoung’s annoyed stare was back, and all Yuta could do was lower his head and wave goodbye to his friends. 

Johnny let them go with promises to see them both the following day, while Jaehyun looked mildly faint. He said his goodbyes nonetheless, despite his eyes having regained that anxious edge to them. Yuta almost wanted to tell Doyoung that they should probably stay longer, but the way that his friend was looking at him made him keep his mouth shut. 

“I really don’t get why the rush,” Yuta voiced out once they were outside and walking towards his car. 

Doyoung sighed, his shoulder slouching. 

“You have the emotional sensitivity of a pebble.”

“What? What does this even mean? I am a very sensitive man, I will have you know.” 

“Are we even talking about the same person?” Doyoung scoffed.

Yuta tried to pinch him, right in that spot above his ribs where he knew the other was ticklish, but Doyoung had anticipated the move and run ahead with a giggle. Yuta sprinted off after him, chasing him down the road, the smile on his face growing wider every time he caught a glimpse of Doyoung’s matching one. 

For a brief moment he worried that their shouts and loud bouts of laughter would disturb the neighborhood, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop from trying to steal more of those breathless giggles from Doyoung. 

It was in moments like those when Yuta lost track of time and space and immersed himself in the full and invigorating acceptance that he couldn't be anything other than in love with Doyoung.

* * *

The car ride was silent, save from the gentle humming of a song coming from the radio. Strangely enough, Doyoung wasn’t singing along, something that he always did whenever he could. Yuta liked to whine about how it distracted him from his driving, but the truth was that he loved hearing Doyoung’s soft tone, especially when the streets outside were dark and everything seemed to be suspended in time.

Yuta himself liked to join in sometimes, singing along at the top of his lungs to a rock song or trying to follow along with the token rap song. Doyoung would laugh and roll down the windows, letting air ruffle his dark locks. 

There was a special place in Yuta’s mind for those memories, a place that he liked to visit sometimes, when he was lying wide awake in his bed, close to the early morning hours. 

Yuta knew that Doyoung was absorbed in his own thoughts – he could almost _hear_ his gears turning in his head. He scoffed under his breath. No matter how much he tried, he could never grasp nor match Doyoung’s thought process. It was fugitive, its steps confusing Yuta in the way that they interwoven to bring Doyoung to his scaringly accurate conclusions. Above all, he never knew what went through his friend’s head at time like these, where nothing seemed to be out of place, but he could feel a raw sort of energy flowing. 

The car came to a stop in front of Doyoung’s apartment building, the low music filling the small space. 

Yuta tightened his hold on the steering wheel, feeling restless. He had refrained from looking at Doyoung all throughout the silent ride, knowing that something wasn’t right. He breathed in deep, the chemical scent of pine filling his lungs. Eventually, Yuta turned to the side to take a good look at his friend. 

Doyoung was biting on his lower lip, his right knee jumping up and down. Something was definitely not right. 

Yuta opened his mouth a couple of times, all his good intentions and worries on the tip of tongue. Nothing came out. It was like a nightmare repeating itself for the hundredth time, Yuta grasping for a way out but digging a deeper hole into the ground. 

He wet his lips, tried again. There was a weight pulling his vocal chords down, down into his stomach and consuming them. 

Doyoung inhaled sharply, turning to look Yuta in the eye. 

“There was something that I wanted to talk to you about.” 

Yuta blinked, closing his mouth shut. Nothing was going to come out anyway, so he should at least save himself from looking like an idiot. 

“An opportunity came up and I have been considering whether I should accept it or not.” Doyoung was picking his words carefully.

Yuta nodded, gesturing for him to keep going. There was some kind of glacial air howling into Yuta’s head, muffling each sound and twisting it into an ugly snivel. 

“It involves me leaving.”

“Leaving?” 

Oh, so now Yuta’s mouth wasn’t out of order anymore. 

“Yes, for one year. Or more. It really depends on how well I can acclimate myself there.” The corner of Doyoung’s mouth flickered down.

Doubt simmered in Yuta’s gut, and it was threatening to eat him away if he didn’t voice it. This time, it worked. 

“How long have you been considering this?”

Doyoung diverted his gaze, his nose scrunching up. “One month.” 

Now it was the taste of betrayal stinging the back of Yuta’s throat, making him want to lay his head against the steering wheel and scream.

He pulled himself together.

“You have been thinking about this for one month and you’re only mentioning this now?” Yuta knew that he was being unfair, but he needed this. 

“I knew that you would have reacted like this!” 

“And that’s why it took you _one month_ to mention this fact to me?!”

Doyoung sighed, rubbing at his temples. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” Yuta sneered. So many feelings were storming inside of him, each one of them pointing at how disappointed he felt. 

“See, this is why it took me so long to tell you. You’re being overly dramatic for nothing.” 

The way Doyoung was pushing throw with his know-it-all agenda grated on Yuta’s nerves. He grinded his teeth together. 

“For— for nothing?”

Yuta’s pent-up feelings were already piled up high enough, precariously balancing on a quaking ground, risking to topple over. Every day with Doyoung was like a roller coaster, one second high enough to feel like nothing could hurt them, and the next plummeting fast towards destruction. 

“Doyoung you are leaving. For God knows how long.”

“You could be happy for me, you know,” Doyoung frowned at Yuta. 

“I am! I am happy for you, of course I am!” Yuta shouted, pounding his fist against his chest. 

“Then why are we screaming in your car!” 

“Because you’re an idiot!”

“Oh my God,” Doyoung raised his hand in front of Yuta’s face, halting him. “This is going nowhere.” 

Yuta crossed his arms in front of his chest, resolutely staring at the way the headlights of his car illuminated the dark asphalt in front of it. Doyoung sighed for what felt like the umpteenth time that night, his eyes trained right in front of him. Now, the pine smell inside the car made Yuta feel nauseous, the intense need to breathe in some fresh air making his skin itch. 

“Listen…” Doyoung started, but stopped once he saw whatever expression Yuta was wearing. 

Another sigh.

“Drive safely. Goodnight,” he finished. He opened the car door and jogged all the way to his front door, never looking back, not even once. Yuta wasn’t even paying attention, his vision tunneling as his thoughts spiraled and revisited the conversation that had just taken place. 

His feelings were like a lethal mix of alcoholics; rage, sadness, longing and confusion all wrapped together into something that threatened to crush his heart. He thrust his foot on the ignition and sped into the empty streets. 

Yuta didn’t stop until he was home, out of his car and into his room, where he crashed on his bed and let himself feel the burn.

* * *

The aftermath of it all was what people would call an _unhappy ending_. At least, that’s what Yuta was convinced of. 

Days were passing by, one after the other, yet they were marked by a stifling, off-putting silence. Doyoung had stopped trying to get through Yuta, who acted like the former didn’t exist in his presence. On several occasions he even went as far as to drive out of the city so that he would get away from all the familiar places that reminded him of so many things involving Doyoung. It was maddening. 

There were also the many sleep-deprived nights where Yuta had considered whether deleting Doyoung’s number would be the best choice – his trembling thumb hovering above the _Delete Contact_ icon. He could never bring himself to do it. 

Of course such a rift affected their friends too, who could only watch on, confused, as Doyoung and Yuta barely even breathed in each other’s direction. 

Taeyong was freaking out, begging them to explain what was going on.

“Ask Kim,” Yuta would sneer, deep down feeling bad for how his behaviour was hurting Taeyong. However, he had given up on trying to explain the situation to himself, so he had closed himself off to the outside world, too. 

Amidst it all, the thing that Yuta despised the most was how Doyoung had kept his pristine facade in front of everyone. A keen eye could see the cracks in his calculated movements, the dark tinge making his words sound a tad off. But he was trying so hard to hide it all that Yuta wanted to scream at him. 

If he did, he wouldn’t know what he’d say, what his stunted sentences would convey. He just felt the need to shake Doyoung off and see if under the mask someone was even still breathing. 

In an unexpected turn of events it was Johnny who approached Yuta one sunny afternoon. They crossed paths while on campus and decided to stop by the closest place to get something to drink. They had barely sat down that Johnny spoke.

“Come on, spit.” 

Yuta looked up from where he was stirring his coffee, the strong smell filling his nostrils.

“Excuse me? Are you here to interrogate me, officer? I request my lawyer first.”

“You are one stubborn idiot, you know that?”

“I may be aware.” Yuta sipped from his cup, feeling the hot liquid warm his tongue. 

“How long do you plan to keep this up? It’s starting to look ridiculous, even for you guys.” Johnny scolded. It wasn’t easy to make Johnny Suh mad, but Yuta suspected that he was at least irritated. 

“You’re asking the wrong person,” Yuta replied.

“You sure?”

Yuta was getting irritated, too.

“Yes, I’m sure. I don’t know why you guys always assume that it must be _my_ fault, but it’s fucking unfair. Have you even talked to Doyoung? Did he even mention anything to you?”

Johnny’s shoulders sagged as he shook his head. Yuta huffed, mumbling a _Guessed as much_ under his breath. 

He really hated arguing with his friends, but the whole situation had gotten out of control and he had no idea of how to resolve it. 

“I’m sorry, Yuta. You’re right, I haven’t talked to Doyoung, and it was wrong of me to assume,” Johnny tentatively worded out. “But I have known both of you guys for some time now, and I know that Doyoung can hold his own. I’m worried for you.” 

Yuta frowned down at his coffee, black swirls imitating what was undoubtedly inside of him in that moment. 

“Apology accepted. But you don’t have to worry about me.”

There was pity in Johnny’s eyes as Yuta said those words, which made him wonder if they sounded as fake out loud as they did inside his own head. 

Once the both of them finished up their coffees, Johnny left with a promise that Yuta would soon need to hang out with their group of friends again because he missed their Fortnite battles. Yuta smiled, waving him off with a half-assed promise. 

He missed his friends too, but most of all he missed one person in particular. Time was moving on though, and Yuta felt like he had ran out of possibilities to get what he had back. It was just a matter of coming to terms with it. 

And when pieces of Doyoung’s existence lingered at the fringe of Yuta’s consciousness, he knew that he was fighting a losing battle.

* * *

Christmas was just around the corner, but that meant that exams were, too. Yuta had been cramming for eight days straight, his body and his mind straining under the pressure. 

In different circumstances he could have turned to Doyoung, his voice, tired and rough from the stress that no doubt was eating at him too, soothing Yuta’s frayed nerves. They would stay like that, on the phone, talking until sleep got the best of one of them. Usually the first to give in was Doyoung. During those moments, Yuta would wait a bit on the line, letting the soft, evened-out breaths lull him into a peaceful state. 

Those memories felt so far away yet so poignant. It was like Yuta’s heart wasn’t going to give up any time soon, despite every other cell in his body having kicked each strand of his feelings to the curb. 

Taeyong, Johnny and Jaehyun looked like they had given up too, no longer trying to mediate a conversation between the two arguing parties. Yuta was glad, because he was tired of trying. He was tired of so many things, and all he wanted to do was sleep his days away until time faded and nothing was real anymore. 

He also needed to cut off the amount of red bull he was downing to study all the materials he had been given to. 

It was one of those rare nights where Yuta had turned to bed earlier than usual. It had been a rough day, projects and exams piling up until he couldn’t put off a good night of sleep any longer. He needed something more natural than caffeine to keep him awake and functioning.

Yuta was deep in his slumber when he was startled awake by his phone vibrating under his pillow. He groggily stared at the time, his mind taking ages to register that it read 4.06 AM. He picked the call up, forgetting to check who it was from in the first place.

“H’llo?”

There was a sniff on the other side.

_“Hey, it’s me.”_

Yuta furrowed his brows, raking his hair back with his free hand. His vision had yet to adjust to the lingering darkness in his room, every edge melting away.

“Jaehyun?”

_“Yeah, sorry to bother you this soon.”_

The sound of rain came from outside, drops of water hitting Yuta’s window and almost covering Jaehyun’s feeble voice.

“What’s wrong?” He sat up on his bed, looking around in search for a pair of socks. His feet were freezing. 

_“It’s—”_ Jaehyun stopped, a heavy breath coming from him making the line crackle. _“Johnny has left.”_

“Oh,” Yuta mouthed out. There was the distant sound of chattering coming from the end of the line, and his sleep addled brain couldn’t wrap itself around what that was about. 

“Where are you right now?” He asked.

 _“The airport.”_ Jaehyun’s voice sounded like it could break at any point, wobbling here and there on every syllable.

Yuta marveled at that piece of information. Johnny had thrown a farewell party a couple of days prior, Yuta joining under the condition that he had to leave soon because of _personal reasons_. Everyone knew the real reason behind that being the fact that Doyoung would be there and that at this point Yuta was too much of an idiot to even function in his presence, but they complied. 

Despite his personal fuck-ups, he remembers Jaehyun being there too and paying extra attention to Johnny all night. He would stick to his side like a lost puppy, even when he greeted people that Jaehyun probably had no idea who they were. 

Yuta also remembers Johnny insisting that on the day of his departure he’d be leaving far too soon from the airport, and that he really didn't want to bother his friends by having them get up at ass o’clock – _It’s not even a goodbye, let’s keep things light_. Some of them had tried to convince Johnny that it was okay for them to greet him at the gate, but he had been immovable in his decision.

Despite all this, Jaehyun still went. 

_“I just can’t stop thinking. What if I can never see him again.”_

And it was just like a slap upside the head, how the revelation hit Yuta. 

At first it was a memory of Jaehyun sitting on a bench under the summer sun, his eyes shaking in nervousness as he asked his friend about _What if I was hypothetically in love with someone_. Then, it was the memory of Doyoung, rushing him out of Jaehyun’s apartment that night when Johnny let them all know that he would be leaving for Canada. 

It was Johnny that Jaehyun was in love with, and Yuta never felt so stupid for realizing that so late. Every hint was there, right from the start, yet he was blind to every single one. 

Doyoung already knew, of course. Taeyong must have known, too. Yuta was simply the last one to realize, as usual. 

Now, Jaehyun’s broken voice coming through the phone sounded even more desperate. 

_“I’m an idiot, I never even told him anything—”_ A sob wracked Jaehyun, his words coming out a garbled mess. _“I never said it and now I’m so scared I won’t ever see him again.”_

Yuta’s heart constricted. He tried to shush his friend, offer him some words of comfort, but as usual he was poorly succeeding at that. Jaehyun was still sobbing on the line, the distant calls for late passengers to embark resonating in the background. 

With each one of Jaehyun’s words of regret spilling from his lips like sorrowful admonishments, Yuta could feel something stir up inside him. Jaehyun was the one who ended the call, apologizing for having contacted his friend at such an hour. Yuta reassured him, leaving him with a promise that he would call him back once Jaehyun got home safely. 

Once the line went dead, silence reigned again. Darkness was shrouding everything, blanketing Yuta in its embrace. It would have been calming, if not for his heart pounding crazily in his chest. His tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth, his throat so dry that it felt like he had swallowed sandpaper. 

A feeling as cold as ice slowly wrapped itself around Yuta’s heart, creeping up under his skin, raising every hair on his body. Jaehyun’s words haunted him.

_What if I never see him again?_

It was sad, how Yuta had to reach such a conclusion only out of desperation and pushed by the pain that one of his dearest friends was going through, but he couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t stop himself from thinking back to Doyoung, the slope of his nose, his bunched up cheeks, his stubborn personality. His dumb, big heart, hidden away by heaps of sarcasm.

Yuta was suspended in time, something akin to wind blowing into his veins, pushing him to throw on whatever was lying around in his room and book it out of there. 

His instincts were telling him to run, and so he did. 

He put on a hoodie that had been hanging on the back of his desk chair for weeks on end, and shimmied into a pair of pants that sported a coffee stain from the previous day. He picked up his apartment keys, his phone, and rushed down the flights of stairs. The air smelled humid, raindrops falling over him once he was in the middle of the deserted road. 

The coil around his soul wasn’t letting him breathe, coming close to black out his vision. For a moment, he slowed to a stop. He gave himself time to feel his feet safely anchored to the ground, his teeth grinding in his mouth, before he took off.

Yuta ran. 

His feet threaded the wet asphalt as his hair and clothes soaked up the rain coming down like a cascade. He could feel a burning sensation eating away at his calves, the strain on every single one of his muscles cutting his breath in his throat. 

He ran. 

Gusts of wind kicked up dead leaves resting at the side of the road, making them stick to Yuta’s jeans. Cracks in the asphalt had him stumble and fall right as he turned a sharp corner, but he didn’t stop. There was something exhilarating about that run, a feeling of freedom bursting from his core and adding to the chant in his head that just begged for him to _be there_. 

A familiar building came into view, Yuta’s feet losing momentum as they had him stumble in front of a well-known door. He leaned against the wall, bending over as he tried to catch his breath. It was freezing outside, the cold air stinging each time he gulped it down. A small puddle was starting to form at his feet where his clothes dripped on the floor. 

Yuta hesitated for a moment, debating whether it was okay to knock on Doyoung’s door at such an hour looking like he did. It was too late to go back though, a voice in his head insisting to press that damned doorbell. 

A ring could be heard coming from inside, and Yuta waited with bated breath. Doyoung must have been asleep, huddled under his warmest blanket and drooling all over his pillow. Yuta giggled at the thought, his heart thudding in his chest.

He startled when the door in front of him started to open ever so slowly, a head of ruffled hair peeking out from behind it. Doyoung was squinting through eyes foggy with sleep, the sight making Yuta’s stomach fill with butterflies. It was like he had gone back in time, when his feelings for Doyoung were still excitingly new. 

Doyoung blinked a couple of times, realization slowly dawning over him. 

“Hi,” Yuta whispered breathlessly. 

“Yuta?” Doyoung took a step outside, the cold air hitting his naked arms and making him shiver. He was in a ruffled t-shirt and pajama pants with little bunnies printed on them. Yuta had given them to him as a birthday present a couple of years back. 

“What—” another shiver, “what are you doing here?”

Then, without even letting Yuta answer: “Wait, you’re dripping wet! Are you crazy?!” 

Doyoung’s eyes scanned Yuta from head to toe, taking in his disheveled appearance. 

“God, just. Come in, hurry.” He hushed Yuta inside, fussing about in worry. 

“Thanks…” Yuta mumbled, the warmth of the apartment seeping into his frozen limbs and reminding him that he was that close to getting frostbite. 

Doyoung locked the main door, rushing into the bathroom before coming back with a bunch of towels draped over his arms. He took one and started drying off Yuta’s hair, while he rambled on.

“Umbrellas have been invented already, you know that? What if you catch pneumonia? Wait, what time is it?” Doyoung glanced at the clock in the kitchen, his eyes bugging out of his face. 

“What were you even doing around at this hour?”

Yuta laughed, amused by his friend’s endless questions. The tips of his fingers were so cold that he couldn’t even feel them, but something so, so warm was blooming in his chest. 

“I didn’t mean to worry you, _mom_.” 

Doyoung huffed, drying Yuta’s hair with more energy. “Shut up, the door is right there. It will take me less than two seconds to kick you back out.” 

“Okay, but can you like. Stop rubbing my hair already? You’re hurting me.” Yuta couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

“Go bald, Nakamoto,” Doyoung replied, but at once he stopped his frantic movements. 

Once Yuta wasn’t dripping wet anymore, he got shoved into the bathroom so that he could take a shower and change into some dry clothes. He wanted to take his time, letting the hot spray of water relax him. His calves were still burning from the run. However, he couldn't stop himself from feeling on edge. Yuta went through the motions of washing his hair and drying himself off with calculated movements, cutting corners whenever he could so as to finish faster.

Eventually, when he got out of the bathroom, he was met by Doyoung handing him a steaming hot cup of tea. 

“Herbal tea. So you won’t get a sore throat tomorrow.” 

“Thank you,” Yuta said, sipping on it. Something caught his attention though, and he raised his brows at Doyoung. 

“There’s honey in this.” 

“Of course, that’s how you prefer your tea, isn’t it?” Doyoung replied, trying to sound nonchalant, yet Yuta could see the subtle flush sitting his on his cheeks. 

The two of them sat on the small, old couch that Doyoung had insisted on buying at a flea market right before moving into his apartment. He had been mysteriously obsessed over it for days, until Yuta, Taeyong, Johnny and Jaehyun had all pitched in something to help him purchase it. 

Rain was still falling from the sky. Dark, heavy clouds could be seen from the living room window, strands of lightning making them look even more menacing.

“Are you ever going to tell me why you broke into my house at four in the morning?” 

“I rang the doorbell and you let me in, so technically I didn’t break in.” 

Doyoung scrunched his nose. “Do I have to play bad cop to get the answer out of you?” 

“Kinky.” 

Doyoung shoved Yuta, who risked to make his tea spill all over the carpet. They bickered for a bit, those weeks spent acting like they were less than strangers vanishing. It was like nothing had ever changed, and Yuta dared to hope that that was the case indeed. The way the little wrinkles under Doyoung’s eyes were showing up, his smile as bright as it could be, Yuta let himself hope. 

Minutes passed, silence falling over them once again. The clock was ticking away, yet Doyoung’s apartment seemed enveloped in a cloak that separated it from the real world and its rules. Nothing was real outside the rise and fall of their chests, Doyoung’s naked feet rhythmically tapping against the floor. Yuta closed his eyes, letting himself unwind. 

“So, are you going to tell me?” 

Doyoung was being cautious, his words tentative and shy. It was unexpected. Yuta was ready to get drilled, yet ended up being treated like he was a wild animal that could flee at any moment if not approached with care. Was that how Doyoung was seeing him?

Yuta bit his lower lip, playing around with the half finished mug in his hands. 

“I… wanted to see you?” 

“Is that a question or your reason?”

“Don’t make this harder than it already is,” Yuta bit out, sounding more hostile than he had intended. 

Doyoung looked at him for a long, drawn out moment. Then, he diverted his stare towards the window where little raindrops rolled down the panes. 

“I’ll start then.” 

Yuta jerked his head up, surprised by those words. His pulse quickened when Doyoung briefly met his eyes. 

“I had never intended to keep it from you for so long.” Doyoung didn’t specify _what_ , but Yuta knew that he was referring to the fact that he would be leaving. That one argument that had set about the whole mess that had come to be. 

“When I had received a positive reply to my email, I was surprised because I had never expected to hear anything back. The application that I had sent was more out of boredom than anything.” Doyoung took a sip from his tea, wetting his lips. 

He was nervous, his fingers trembling ever so slightly. Yuta gulped: he wanted to hold his hand so bad.

“It did seem like a really good opportunity though. So I took it. And after that came the hardest part, I guess.” Doyoung laughed under his breath, eyes trained on his cup. 

Nothing else was said, every possible implication left hanging in the air. 

“Was— what was that?” 

“Take a wild fucking guess.” Doyoung’s eye twitched. 

Yuta blinked, his brain working in overdrive but coming up with what he knew was a bunch of gibberish. He could feel himself giving up.

Abruptly, Yuta stood up. He put the empty tea cup on the coffee table covered in books that Doyoung had only half-read. 

Doyoung startled, worriedly looking at him. There it was again, that look like if he wasn’t careful enough Yuta would leap into the horizon and disappear. 

“Yuta—”

“Wait. Listen to me, okay? Because I don’t think that I will ever be able to do this in my life ever again. So, just. Just listen.”

Doyoung nodded, back ramrod straight. He looked infinitely cute in his pajama, hair looking as soft as a cloud. 

“I don’t know how to tell you this, God.” Yuta raked both his hands through his hair, pushing it back. 

“So.” Yuta started.

There was a strange look in Doyoung’s eyes. “So?”

“...so.” Fuck, Yuta was going nowhere. 

Doyoung was tapping his feet in irritation. Yuta had fucked everything up once again. His tongue was like lead in his mouth, that sensation of his vocal chords being ripped apart burning his throat. 

Suddenly, Doyoung stood up too. He took two wide, purposeful strides towards Yuta. He put his hands on his shoulders, leveling him with a determined stare. 

After that, it was the feeling of soft lips against his. It was a fleeting touch, something so gentle and chaste that it could barely be called a kiss. The rain outside was still falling. 

“I love you.” 

Yuta was mesmerized by the sparkles in Doyoung’s eyes.

“Usually, kisses are used to shut people up,” Doyoung mumbled. “Can’t believe it was all it took to make you talk, you idiot.” 

Slowly, Yuta’s brain caught up and he realized that he had been the one saying those first words. He wanted to repeat them, over and over.

“I love you,” he uttered. 

Doyoung kissed him again, this time with more meaning. Their breaths mingled, warm and quick. 

“Fuck, I love you.” Yuta cupped Doyoung’s cheek, deepening the kiss as much as could. His heart was thundering behind his ribs, head so light he felt like he could pass out at any moment. 

“I got the memo,” Doyoung joked, lips moving against Yuta’s ones. 

“You have no idea what you do to me.” Yuta’s hand gently slid down the column of Doyoung’s neck, landing on his hip.

“Maybe I do,” the latter replied, nuzzling his nose against Yuta’s cheek. 

The rain outside had stopped.

* * *

A soft light filtered through the window and illuminated the small bedroom. The dark clouds had diffused, leaving a pale, winter sun behind. Yuta felt warm, still wearing his shirt and pants, cuddled under a blanket that smelled like lavender detergent and something else that he couldn’t pinpoint. 

Doyoung was fast asleep in his arms, chest rising and falling with every breath he took. There was a hickey blossoming right under his ear that Yuta had left behind. The clock on the nightstand read 7.30 am when the alarm went off. Doyoung grunted, mumbling under his breath. Yuta smiled at the way his nose was scrunched up in annoyance.

Doyoung disentangled one of his hands from the mess of limbs under the covers, and blindly reached for the source of all evil. Once the alarm stopped blaring, he made a small, satisfied noise and burrowed back into the warmth.

“Good morning,” Yuta said through a smile. 

“‘Morning.”

Doyoung wasn’t a morning person, Yuta had known it for years. However that did not mean that he didn’t like to play around with him a little. Carefully he placed his fingers around his hips, using his fingertips to tickle Doyoung. The latter let out a broken shout, risking to make the two of them topple outside of bed and onto the floor.

“Stop! Oh my God, Yuta stop!” 

Yuta took pity on the younger and halted his attack. 

“Ugh, you’re the most annoying,” Doyoung lamented. 

“You spelled _I’m_ wrong.”

“We’re _talking_ , dumbass.” 

Yuta laughed, letting his head sink against the soft pillows and closing his eyes. If he thought back to how he had finally managed to voice out his feelings for Doyoung, he could feel his heart growing bigger. They were still the same; same banter, same name-calling, same antics. Yet, when Doyoung placed his head on the pillow, right next to Yuta’s one, he could reach out and lay a wet, smacking kiss on his lips. Doyoung whined, but he didn’t seem to mind – at all. 

There were many things that they’d have to talk about once they got out of those warm covers, and both of them knew that - things that needed to be figured out, unanswered questions and issues. Doyoung still had to leave soon, something else that had to be added to the list of things to work on.

It didn’t look easy, but it was far from the _unhappy ending_ that Yuta had resigned himself to. 

As the early sun shone on them, they laid in bed a little longer, enjoying each other’s presence.

**Author's Note:**

> shout out to all the angels that i always see commenting and supporting new doyu fics. i see you cuties, and i appreciate each and every one of you!


End file.
